


3 Kinds of Comfort Phil Offered Daisy

by Persiflage



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: 3 Things, Angst with a Happy Ending, Canon Disabled Character, Comfort Food, Couch Sex, Cuddling & Snuggling, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Episode Related, F/M, First Kiss, First Time, Future Fic, Hurt/Comfort, Inhumans (Marvel), Minor Character Death, Older Man/Younger Woman, Phil Coulson's Prosthetic Hand, Phil Stanning Daisy is Canon, Skoulson Sex Cabin, Skye | Daisy Johnson's Superpowers, The Retreat Safe House (Marvel), Watchdogs (Marvel), Workplace Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-04
Updated: 2016-11-04
Packaged: 2018-08-29 01:20:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,674
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8470186
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Persiflage/pseuds/Persiflage
Summary: Does what it says on the tin! Related to 4:04 and 4:05.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [zauberer_sirin](https://archiveofourown.org/users/zauberer_sirin/gifts).



> I still have massive feels about the way that Phil isn't blaming Daisy for leaving SHIELD, unlike EVERY OTHER member of her team.

1 – Space

"Why aren't you mad at me?" Daisy asks Phil, and he blinks, then frowns at her as he sits beside her on the floor of the Quinjet. He's just brought her something to eat following that battle with the Watchdogs in the prison cafeteria, and he's opening the first aid kit he brought up from the Z1.

"Mad about what?" he asks carefully.

"Me leaving. You're the only one who hasn't told me off yet."

"Why would anyone tell you off?" he asks, and his bafflement is obviously genuine. "You had every right to leave if you felt that was the best way to deal with what happened to you. Andrew and Lincoln both dying for you, and being taken over by Hive." He shakes his head. "I don't blame you for running." He lightly presses the tips of his fingers to her wrist, and she feels the difference in the buzz of his vibrations because it's his prosthetic hand. "I haven't forgotten when we lost Trip. You wanted to run then, didn't you?"

There's nothing but gentle concern in his eyes as he looks at her, and she swallows hard, doing her best to hold back any further tears. She cried after May talked to her, she doesn't want to cry in front of Phil. Something shows in her face, though, because Phil whispers, "Oh Daisy" in a tiny, soft voice, and the next thing she knows, she's leaning into him and his arms are wrapped carefully around her as she sobs on his shoulder.

"It's okay, Daisy," he says softly, rubbing circles on her back in a soothing fashion. "Let it out."

When she's all cried out, he hands her some tissues, then goes back to checking the stitches on her back where Simmons stitched up her gunshot wound. He doesn't exactly ignore her, but he's clearly giving her space to recover from breaking down; his hands are gentle as he re-dresses her wound, rubs some salve into the bruises on her arms, then offers a different kind of salve for the split on her lip.

Once he's finished, he cups her face in both his hands, then presses his lips to her brow, like a benediction. "Are you sure I can't tempt you downstairs?" he asks softly. "There's a comfy couch in the Director's cabin on the Z1. You could stretch out and get some proper rest."

She's strongly tempted – sleep is something she's desperate for right now, but she can't face seeing the other agents, especially Mack, May, or Fitz.

"I've slept in worse places," she tells him, a little more harshly than is fair, but Phil doesn't look hurt by her tone.

"Okay. If there's anything you want, anything I can do for you, just ask," he says. "That includes asking me to leave you alone if you'd prefer."

"Can you stay for a bit longer?" she asks. She should send him away, she thinks, because this is not having nothing to lose, but she feels so vulnerable right now that she'd rather he stayed, if he's willing, even if it will hurt more once she leaves again.

"Of course," he says.

"Thanks." She picks up her laptop again, and Phil puts away the first aid kit, then settles back against the side of the plane. His arm and hip and leg all brush lightly against hers and his vibrations seep into hers, soothing some of her hurt, and this is definitely a bad idea, but she can't bring herself to send him away. Not yet.

2 – Food

After Daisy gets Phil, Robbie, and Fitz back from the alternate dimension into which Eli had sent them, the Director is slightly more amenable to having Daisy around, but she still isn't planning on coming back to SHIELD full time: there are even now plenty of people out there who think the best kind of Inhumans are the dead kind, and SHIELD's clearly doing a less than stellar job of keeping them safe – as Phil readily admits, even if no one else will. One thing Mace does agree to is Phil helping Daisy out on Inhuman missions, if Mace doesn't need him for other things. It's a barely acceptable compromise, but she agrees because she knows she can trust Phil to have her back, and to actually care about the Inhumans she's trying to save – she's not sure anyone else cares, not even Mace himself, despite the fact he's an Inhuman too. 

One of the benefits of having Phil's assistance is having him around to cook for her. They're holed up in one of Daisy's safehouses, purchased with money she'd taken from HYDRA post-Hive, and while she grabs a shower and changes, Phil makes dinner for them. He'd insisted on stopping off on the way here, and Daisy had waited in her van while he slipped into a crowded mall to hit a couple of food stores. He'd come back toting two paper sacks which he'd stowed behind his seat before climbing back into the van.

"You're not feeding the 5000 Phil, you know that, right?" she teased as she hit the highway again.

He chuckled. "I bought more than loaves and fishes, don't worry."

"Yeah, but – " she began.

"Daisy," he said quietly, cutting off her objections. "It's okay. I'm hungry too, you know, after kicking Watchdog ass all day."

"Sorry," she muttered. He reached over and curled his hand over her wrist.

"It's okay," he said, and squeezed gently, mindful of the fact he was touching her with his prosthetic hand, and mindful, also, of the still-healing fractures in her arms.

Now, as she comes downstairs, she can smell tomatoes and herbs, and what she strongly suspects is salmon baking in the oven. She can also, weirdly, smell cheese.

"Hey," she calls softly as she approaches Phil as he stands, sleeves rolled up and apron on, at the stove stirring something in a pan.

He half turns towards her, and gives her a look that's practically adoring. It makes warmth pool in her belly, and she has to break eye contact before she does something she'll regret. "Hey yourself."

"What's cooking, Phil?"

He smiles. "I've made grilled cheese and tomato soup for a starter," he says. "Then we're having baked salmon with pasta and steamed veggies. And there's dessert too."

She clicks her tongue. "Feeding the 5000."

He chuckles, then bumps her shoulder with his. "Just one superhero and her puny human sidekick," he says. "But a very hungry superhero."

She sighs. "I am," she agrees.

"Why don't you set the table," he suggests, "and then I'll serve up."

"Okay." She gets out bowls, plates and cutlery, then finds the glasses and mugs.

Five minutes later they're sitting down to eat, and Daisy has to bite back a moan of pure pleasure when she tastes the tomato and herb soup. She has a feeling she shouldn't be dunking her grilled cheese in the soup, but since Phil's shamelessly doing the same, she reckons it's okay this time at least.

The food is excellent, even the store-bought cherry pie that Phil serves up with great scoops of ice cream, and by the time they've finished their coffee Daisy feels sleepy and full.

"Why don't you go on up to bed," Phil says when she thanks him for dinner. "I'll clear up down here."

"That seems unfair," she observes, then stifles a yawn behind her hand.

He smirks. "You look like you're going to fall asleep on your feet, so you might as well," he says. "Besides, you did most of the work in the op today, so it's only fair that I do the domestic stuff."

"You're the best," she tells him, and slings her arms around his neck. He chuckles as he wraps his arms around her in return.

She can feel herself sagging, though, so she nuzzles the side of his neck a little, then pulls away. His eyes are wide, and she realises that nuzzling Phil's a little too intimate, but then he presses his lips to her brow – something he hasn't done since that first time aboard the Quinjet – before stepping away from her.

"I'll see you in the morning," he says, and she nods, bids him goodnight, then takes herself upstairs before she can do anything more foolish. The fact that she and Phil have grown closer than ever while working together over the past few weeks is no reason to assume he wants any kind of intimacy with her. And she knows she's foolish to want it with him – she's the rotten core at the centre of everything. Except – well, when she's with Phil, she forgets that. He makes her feel like she's the centre of the universe in good ways, and that's made it harder to remember she doesn't want to have anything to lose.

She gets ready for bed, and hopes that he'll have forgotten about the nuzzling by morning.

3 – Touch

Consciousness comes back slowly, but the first thing Daisy notices, without being entirely aware of it, is Phil's hand curled around her wrist: it's his prosthetic hand, which always gives off different vibrations to the rest of him. Then she hears the steady beep-beep of machinery, which is paired with the steady sound of Phil's breathing – he's asleep, she realises. She can smell the antiseptic scent of a hospital or infirmary – she suspects she's not in an actual hospital, though – that'd be too dangerous given her continuing vigilante status. She half opens her eyes, squinting against the bright light and when she carefully rolls her head to her right, there's Phil, sound asleep in a very uncomfortable looking plastic chair. He's got a neat line of sutures across his right eyebrow – which makes her roll her eyes – but he looks otherwise unharmed, although she's sure he must have bruises hidden under his clothes.

"Phil." She can barely croak his name, but it's enough to make his eyes snap open and he leans forward, his expression a mixture of anxious and hopeful.

"Daisy?"

"Water?"

"Of course." He lets go of her wrist (and she misses his touch immediately), reaching over to take a pitcher of water and a tall glass from the top of the cupboard beside her bed.

"Where – ?" She starts to ask, then starts to cough, wincing at how much it hurts her ribs.

"The Infirmary at the Cocoon," he tells her, the anxiety deepening in his eyes as he sets down the pitcher and glass so he can grab the call button that's on a red lead draped over the side of her bed.

A woman she doesn't know comes in and she remembers, with a stab of guilt, that Simmons and Fitz are both gone: she hadn't been able to save everyone in the explosion that the Watchdogs had triggered: she'd got Phil, Mack, and May out, but then she'd collapsed before she could rescue the two scientists. 

"This is Dr Helen Cho," Phil tells her, moving out of the doctor's way. "She's worked with the Avengers and other enhanced people."

"Dr Cho," Daisy manages, and the other woman gives her a nod, then turns her attention to one of the monitors beside her bed. She adjusts the IV that's in the back of Daisy's left hand, and she immediately feels the intensity of the pain in her ribs easing off.

"You can stay with her, Agent Coulson," Dr Cho tells Phil, "but don't let her overdo it."

"Hey," Daisy calls, a little annoyed. "Still here."

Dr Cho flicks a look her way, then walks away, and Daisy raises her eyebrows at Phil as he returns to his seat. 

He smiles. "You took a blow to the head," he reminds her, "and concussion makes you medically unfit to make any judgements regarding your own health."

"Huh," Daisy says, then accepts the glass of water he hands her as he elevates the head of the bed so she's half sitting up and can drink without pouring the water down herself.

He takes the glass when she's finished, and she asks, "How are the others?" 

"May and Mack have already been discharged. They're among the walking wounded, like me."

"And Elena?" 

"She's okay," Phil says with a smile – he's got a real soft spot for Yo-Yo, she knows. "She helped get you out."

"Good," she murmurs, and closes her eyes: they're heavy and she's very tired. She suspects Dr Cho upped the dose of whatever drugs are in her IV, but she can't say she minds the idea of more sleep.

"Go back to sleep, Daisy," Phil says, and presses his lips to her forehead. "I'll still be here when you wake up."

DJ-PC-DJ-PC-DJ

Daisy gets out of the Infirmary the next day – one of the side effects of healing faster as an Inhuman – and a couple of hours after that, May pilots her and Phil to the Retreat. She'd rather go to one of her own safehouses, but as Phil had pointed out, she will need further medical checkups for the next week or two, and since she doesn't want anyone else to know the location of her safehouses, going to the Retreat makes more sense.

Once there, Daisy settles on the couch with her laptop, intending to watch Netflix and chill. Phil is making them a late lunch, and she finds herself watching him rather than the TV show.

"You're staring," he says, and half turns to look at her over his shoulder as he chops vegetables. He's smirking, and she suspects he likes being stared at.

"Yes," she agrees, and sets the laptop down on the coffee table, then crosses the room to stand behind him. She senses a flutter of excitement in his vibrations as she presses herself against his back and slides her arms around his middle.

"Daisy?" 

"I love you, Phil Coulson," she says, surprising herself, if not Phil, because she hadn't meant to say that aloud, not yet.

He immediately lets go of the knife, then turns around in her arms and wrapping his own around her, he leans in and kisses her. There's nothing chaste about it, and she feels a surge of desire that makes her kiss him back equally fervently. She feels his cock growing stiff and thick, even through the denim of their jeans, and she quickly insinuates her hand inside his pants to curl around his swollen cock.

"Fuck!" he gasps, tearing his mouth from hers.

"Yes," she says, and turns them both so she can guide him across the room to the couch. Within a very short time they're naked and Phil is settling his body over hers, his cock like a rod of iron against her thigh for a moment before he guides it into her.

She comes almost as soon as he's fully sheathed inside her, but that's only the first time. She actually loses count of how many orgasms she has before he finally spills his seed inside her, his mouth hot on the side of her neck as he climaxes.

They remain where they are for only a few minutes before the chill gets to them, then they get themselves cleaned up and dressed before Phil goes back to making their lunch, and Daisy stretches out along the seat of the couch, her back against the arm, and her laptop balanced on her lap. Starting a sexual relationship with Phil may not be a great idea, given the political situation, but they've just survived being blown up by a bunch of murderous Watchdogs, so she's going to grab everything good that's offered with both hands. And Phil is definitely good.

Of course, this means she definitely has something to lose now, or someone, but she'd already more or less accepted that she would never manage to have nothing to lose. And she can't regret loving Phil, not after everything they've been through together. She'll just have to make sure she takes extra care of him so that she doesn't lose him.


End file.
